Tuesday, September 25, 2018

Poem a Day XVII

Thunderstorm

The thunder is thick in the air;
the static leaps up through the hair;
the flame of the gods pierces darkest night,
sheds light through the park;
the tears are falling from the byssal sky,
with sigh like recalled kiss
on the breezes that mourn their loss
where leaves of trees in anguish toss.

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